A Sketch of Mr. Wesley’s Character, by the Rev. Samuel Bradburn

Such is the character of the Rev. Mr. Weslev, that it would require his own abilities to do it justice. His memory is dear to many thousands, who will gladly receive any testimony in his favour that comes well authenticated. Those who know me will not doubt my veracity; and charity will incline those who do not to believe the best: and I promise to write nothing but what I know to be true.

I am not going to write Mr. Wesley’s history. My chief design is to give a short sketch of those leading virtues which were so uniformly exemplified in the conduct of this truly great man.

I judge it necessary to do this without delay, because (though many encomiums have been given him in the public prints, yet) several falsehoods have been circulated respecting that part of his character which, of all others, is the most blameless, namely, his having left great sums of money to his friends. This is not to be wondered at: for many years ago he was accused of laying up riches; his income was calculated, and no bishop in England was supposed to have such a revenue! It is true, this was done by persons totally ignorant of him and his concerns. Nevertheless, as the belief of such a report might hinder his usefulness, he thought proper to reply to it. In his “Appeal to Men of Reason and Religion,” he clears himself from this slanderous accusation in the strongest terms. He declares that if he left ten pounds behind him, after his debts were paid, the world might call him a thief and a robber. Now the question is. Has he left ten pounds behind him, when his debts are paid? In considering this question, a circumstance must be kept in view which will clearly and fully determine it: that is, his stock of books on s i has of late years greatly increased. And when he repeated the above declaration in public, which I have heard him do many times, he added, “except my books.” These were the only property worthy of note that he had. The library in his study is very small; and is to remain where it is, for the use of the preachers who may at any time be stationed in London.

The house he lived in when in London was, in reality, as much mine, or any other preacher’s, when stationed there, as it was his. The furniture as well as the house, and all the houses and furniture, in London and everywhere else, belong to the connection at large; and are committed to the care of trustees in each place, for the use of the preachers for the time being, who never stay more than three years successively in one circuit.

Mr. Wesley’s other personal effects were very trifling. Till lately he kept very few clothes by him. I myself have been constrained by my own feelings to speak to some friends to clothe Hm, he has been so bare; and so have other preachers to my knowledge. His gowns, cassocks, and bands were mostly given to him; and he has left them for the use of the clergymen who officiate at the New Chapel. Within a few years past, his wearing apparel has increased by particular friends making him presents of such things as they thought he wanted, but would not buy for himself. After all, some of the preachers, and most ministers in England, have more clothes than he had at his death; and the London assistant is appointed to”

divide them among those four of the travelling preachers that want them most.

He was always very backward to lay out any money on his own account. He could not bear to see the poor in want, if he could possibly relieve them. He sold the very pictures off the walls, and even mourning rings, which had been left him, to get money for them. When it became necessary for him to travel in a chaise, his particular friends defrayed all the expense of it, by voluntary subscriptions. He has left the chaise and horses to two gentlemen, in trust, to be sold, and the money to be divided among a number of poor people in London. His watch he has left to Mr. Bradford, to whose care he owed, under God, his very life many times, and to whom the Methodist connection is under great obligations. He has served it many years with zeal and fidelity, from the most disinterested motives. May God reward him!

Real estate Mr. Wesley had none. Many years ago he was enabled, by a charitable donation, to build the school at Kingswood, for the benefit of the sons of the travelling preachers; and it has hitherto been supported by public collections. Whatever right or title he had to this, or any thing in it, or belonging to it, he conveyed, by a regular deed, dated the 25th of February, 1786, to three of the preachers, in trust, for the rest, to be employed as usual.

So much for Mr. Wesley’s temporal affairs. Now let any man of reason and religion, taking all things into the account, judge whether he has not kept his word. Consider the property the preachers have in the stock of books, and the heavy debt it is subject to, and, in the strictest sense that his words will bear, he has not left ten pounds behind him! And I ask with amazement, considerintr the thousands of pounds that passed through his hands, most of which he might have saved, what man, in such a situation, could have acted, from first to last, better than he did? For more than fifty years his labours in the ministry have astonished the world; and to the close of his life he could boldly declare, without fearing to be confronted, —

“The things eternal I pursue,
A happiness beyond the view

Of those who basely pant
For things by nature felt and seen;
Their honours, wealth, and pleasures mean,

I neither have nor want.’^

I can scarcely refrain from exclaiming, —

“0 for a clap of thunder, as loud As to be heard throughout the universe, To tell the world the fact, and to applaud it!”

My feelings have carried me forward farther than I intended. I meant to give an accomit of Mr. Wesley’s property when I came to speak of his charities; but I shall leave it where it is, and proceed with the account of his character.

To form a great man, there must be great powers, exerted in an uncommon manner, producing extraordinary effects. Education draws forth these powers, and mostly determines their application. Some, whose abilities have only been great in one particular way, have nevertheless been famous by their talents being happily suited to their fetation, and the part they had to act. Had their situation been changed, they would have sunk into obscurity. Others have possessed such extensive parts, that they would have shone in any sphere of action. Such was Mr. Wesley. He had strong intellectual powers: a mind comprehensive and vigorous in all its faculties, a penetrating judgment, a capacious and retentive memory, a lively imagination, and a sublime genius. He was educated from his very infancy in the various branches of literature which were necessary to form the scholar and the gentleman; and he pursued, through the whole of his life, the attainment of still higher degrees of such accomplishments as generally excite esteem and admiration. So that had divine Providence placed him in any other rank in life, I have no doubt but he would have excelled. Had he been called to the bar, or the senate, his extensive knowledge and powerful eloquence would have signalized him among the greatest statesmen and orators. He was fond of history and philosophy. His publications are sufficient proofs of his abilities as a writer. He had a fine taste for poetry, and composed himself many of our hymns; but he told me that he and his brother aoreed not to distinguish their hymns from each other’s. He frequently chose to express his thoughts, either in conversation or preaching, in verse, and even in rhyme. It would be no unpleasing task to me (if my plan would have admitted it) to insert in this place, what I think would be pleasing to many, namely, hundreds of lines on various subjects, which he used to repeat; but this must be left to his historian. Some have thought him, in preaching, too poetical, because he often used bold and figurative expressions. He considered words as poor, ill-drawn pictures of our thoughts. I remember, in conversation with him once on this very head, he told me that he heard his father say, “One certain proof of a man’s having little real genius was his being difficult and nice in choosing his words.” Mr. Wesley never appeared greater in my esteem than when the vast conceptions of his towering soul seemed to beggar all the extravagance of hyperbole. Yet he knew how “to contain the fury of his fancy within the bounds of reason.” He was no enthusiast. He was not a random preacher. I recollect his bringing a public charge, in our conferencep against a preacher for preaching, in the strict sense of the word, extempore, that is, without premeditation. In his Notes on the New Testament he has the following remarkable passage: —” Through this whole discourse we cannot but observe the most exact method which can possibly be conceived. Every paragraph, every sentence is closely connected both with that which precedes and that which follows it And is not this the pattern for eveiy

12 SIR. WESLEYS CHARACTER.

Christian preacher? If any, then, are able to follow it, without premeditation, well; if not, let them not dare to preach without it. No rhapsody, no incoherency, whether the things spoken be true or false, comes of the Spirit of Christ.” Matt, v, 10. I wish all those who talk of saying in public “what God gives them,” (as their phrase is,) would attend to Mr. Wesley in this particular.

No man living more firmly believed in, or attended to, a diA’ine influence, than he did. And if ever man was inspired of God, in delivering the sacred truths of Christianity, he was. I have seen him when his holy soul has been elevated with heavenly joy, and drawn out by supernatural assistance to a great degree of devout ardour. But this did not so much respect what he said, as what he felt, and his manner of saving it; his matter was taken from the oracles of God. He was different from himself at different times. But this was when nature was almost exhausted, either with preaching too often in a day, or when he had been unavoidably engaged in company or business till it was time to begin. But even then he had not his subject to seek; for as he constantly preached out of some part of the scriptures for the day, as appointed in the prayer book, and as he read these commonly the first tiling he did in the morning, he then fixed upon the texts he intended to preach on through the day, which were frequently four. I was always sorry when 1 kncAV he was to preach so often; because, in general, one or two of his sermons would be far beneath what he could have made them had he preached but twice. But when he shone least, what a gentleman in Edinburgh said (who had heard him at an unfavourable time) was always true: “It was not a masterly sermon, yet none but a master could have preached it.” As an orator he was a perfect model to every Christian minister. His gestures were graceful and harmonious. His style was delicately chaste; yet he has said, in a letter now before me, “As for me, I never think of my st4e at all, but just set down the words that come first. Only when I transcribe any thing for the press, then I think it my duty to see that every phrase be clear, pure, proper, and easy. Conciseness (which is now, as it were, natural to me) brings quantum sujficit of strength.” In this account there is every property of a good style; and such was his at all times. Indeed, all the graces of rhetoric, uniting in the happiest combination, both in his action and utterance, rendered him one of the most finished speakers that ever adorned a pulpit. He was always accurate without being stifle, and clear without ever being tedious: there was an easy simplicity in his whole deportment, but nothing mean or childish: in his pathetic energy there was no rant or wild fire; nor was he ever pompous, though mostly elegant, and often sublime.

He was a great reader from his very youth. Hence his mind was richly stored with vast treasures of useful and entertaining knowledge. He had an almost inexhaustible fund of stories and anecdotes, adapted to all kinds of people, and to every occurrence in life. These he related with a propriety peculiar to himself. Few men had a greater share of vivacity when in company with those he loved, especially on his journeys. If the weather or the roads happened to be disagi’eeable, or if any little accident befel any of his fellow-travellers, without their being hurt, with what inimitable turns of wit would he strive to keep up their spirits, feeling himself happy in endeavouring to please; so that it was almost impossible to be dull or dissatisfied in by company. The first time I ever was introduced to him, I was greatly struck with his cheerfulness and affability: and the opinion I then formed of Kim on this head, I never altered to this moment. From seeing him only in the pulpit, and considering his exalted station in the church of Christ, I supposed he was very reserved and austere; but how agreeably was I disappointed when, with a pleasant smile, he took me familiarly by the hand, and said, “Beware of the fear of man; and be sure you speak flat and plain in preaching!” It is not easy to express the good effect this advice had on my mind at that time: it was a word in season. I never saw him low-spirited in my life, nor could he endure to be with a melancholy person. When speaking of any who imagined religion would make people morose or gloomy, I have heard him say in the pulpit, “that sour godliness is the devil’s religion.” In his answer to a letter I had written to him, (in a time of strong temptation,) he has these words: “That melancholy turn is directly opposite to a Christian spirit. Every believer ought to enjoy life.” He never suffered himself to be carried away by extreme grief. I heard him say, “I dare no more fret than curse and swear.” That placid serenity which so fully and constantly possessed his soul shone with ineffable sweetness through his expressive countenance, and communicated its benign influences to the large circles of his friends, who crowded together wherever he went, to enjoy the benefit of his conversation. On such occasions, he kindly condescended to a familiar equality, and concealed the great philosopher and divine in the social companion. He was a truly well-bred man. Had he lived in a court all his days, his address could not have been more easy and polite; yet he could be quite content among the most homely tradesmen or peasants, and suit his discourse to the meanest capacity. His courtesy to every one was very engaging, especially to young people. I have heard him repeatedly say, “I reverence a young man, because he may b useful when I am in the dust!” He was very fond of children, though he never had any of his own. Hundreds of these will remember with pleasure, perhaps with profit, the notice he took of them. Little things often discover our real sentiments more than things of importance. When he stooped to unbend his mind with children he found an artless innocence, and a disinterested love, which sweetly corresponded with the generous feelings of his own heart. Our Saviour viewed them in this light when he said, “Of such is the kingdom of heaven”

What a tacit sliir is this upon all the deep designs of human art!

He had an invincible attachment to truth and justice. His abhorrence of dissimulation is sufficiently manifested in his sermon on the character of Nathanael. From that sermon alone it is easy to conclude in what light he viewed everj” species of deception. And as he used no guile himself, neither did he suspect it in others. He was governed by that charity which believeth all things. This sometimes laid him open to the crafty designs of insinuating parasites, who took the advantage of his credulity, and imposed upon his good nature. And if ever he acted wrong, it was chiefly owing to the misplaced confidence he had in such. It was not easy to make him allow that any one had purposely deceived him. And when convinced by facts, he endeavoured to cover the fault, and as far as possible to excuse the offender. This is a distinguishing characteristic of a liberal soul, and is a sufficient reason why great and holy men are so frequently exposed to imposition. They walk in the integrity of their own hearts.

“And oft though wisdom wake, suspicion sleeps
At wisdom’s gate, and to simplicity
Resigns her charge, while goodness thinks no ill,
Where no ill seems.”

In forgiving injuries, he evidenced to all who knew him how much he lived under the power of divine love. Though he was often critically situated, having to deal with men of different principles and opposite interests; and though he had naturally a keen sense of honour, and a quick apprehension of what ought to be upon all occasions, consequently must have been severely tried in his temper: nevertheless, if ever he happened to drop a warm expression, however great the provocation might be, he was humbled into the dust in a moment, and would never rest till the party concerned was reconciled to him. And as he was ever ready to forgive a crime, so he was to forget it. He rose superior to the timid caution of little minds, that can never make a friend of one whom they have had cause to pardon:

“He held it cowardice
To rest mistrustful where a noble heart
Hath pawn’d an open hand in sign of love.”

Were it proper, I could produce many instances, that are fresh in my memory’, in which his love to his enemies was truly astonishing.

He did not love to reprove any one, not even the meanest domestic. This was the more surprising, because no man was ever better qualified to reprove in every form. He could be poignantly satirical when he thought it the most proper method to expose the ridiculous singularity of a pedant, or chastise the supercilious airs of a coxcomb. But though I have known him successful in this way, yet he considered it as meddling with edge tools, and gave very little countenance to it, either in himself or others. He did not love a trifler; any thing like religious buffoonery he abhorred; above all, any lightness in the pulpit was an abomination to hini. He considered the various ills of life, and the awfulness of death, with that deep attention which they deserve. The torments of hell, and the sufferings of the Son of Gpd, he set forth in such an earnest and serious manner as greatly affected both himself and his hearers. He entered into the spirit of his subject, and felt what he said. I have seen his lips quiver, and the tears run down his cheeks, when with the most moving language he has been entreating his congregation to live for eternity. His power of persuasion was very great, especially when engaged in behalf of the poor. Hence frequent applications were made to him to preach charity sermons in many of the churches in London. This was a subject that exactly suited his own benevolent disposition. The poor lay veiy near his heart. Of this he gave the most unequivocal demonstration through the whole course of his life. He not only preached sermons in their behalf, but contrived by various other methods to raise contributions for them. I myself have gone with him from house to house, both to our own people, and others that were well disposed, to beg money to buy bread, coals, and clothing for the poor in London: and that not when the weather was warm and dry, but in the depth of winter, when the melted snow has in many places been over our shoes, so that I have been forced to desist by taking violent colds. Should this paper fall into the hands of any of those to whom he applied, I doubt not but it will cause them to drop a tear by bringing to their remembrance the times they have seen him rejoicing at his success in this labour of Christian love. O, ye widows and orphans! ye aged and infirm! witness how often he has banished care and sorrow from your dreary habitations, and caused the voice of gladness and thanksgiving to be heard in your garrets and cellars! Who now shall lift up the hands that hang down, and confirm the feeble knees? He whose bowels yearned over you with tender compassion, — your amiable, benevolent benefactor, is no more! May God raise you up many to supply his place!

Mr. Wesley’s diligence to serve the poor by these methods was not to save his own money. He gave all he could, which was no inconsiderable sum. In the year 1781 I travelled with him through several circuits; by which means I had an opportunity of knowing how his accounts stood: and I know that he gave away within the year from the Bristol conference, 1780, to the Leeds conference, 1781, in private charities, above fourteen hundred pounds! I do not mention that year as if he never did the like before or since, but because I know he did it then. He told me himself in London, in the year 1787, that he never gave aWay out of his own pocket less than a thousand pounds a year. To enable him to do this, he had, first, the profits of the books which the preachers sold, — (except ten per cent., which some of them took for about eighteen years past.) This proves (let him have died worth what he may) that all he had in strict justice belonged to the body of the preachers. These kept themselves low to put it into his power to be thus liberal, because they loved him; but for them he could not have done it. He had, secondly, from London and Bristol, on an average, about one hundred and fifty pounds per annum by private subscriptions. Thirdly, the society in London gave him thirty pounds a year; which was all the fixed stipend he had. Fourthly, every year almost there were legacies left him. Fifthly, as he went his journeys, the friends in each large society where he preached generally gave him a few pounds when he was going away. Thus, literally having nothing, he possessed all things; and though poor, he made many rich. His manner of bestowing his charity was truly pleasing: he never relieved poor ’ people in the street, but he either took off or moved his hat to them when they thanked him. And in private he took care not to hurt the most refined feelings of those he assisted.

He was ever attentive to a particular providence. His Works at large, especially his Journals, furnish many proofs of this. He took God into his account in every thing. He was not ashamed to pray concerning any thing that he took in hand. This was living Scripturally.

He never, comparatively speaking, suffered much bodily pain, at least not long together, though his constitution was exceedingly delicate. This he frequently mentions in his Journals. When he was eighty-one years old, he wrote thus of himself: “I find myself just as strong to labour, and as fit for any exercise of body or mind, as I was forty years ago. I do not impute this to second causes, but to the sovereign Lord of all.” At the same time he never neglected second causes. He was as temperate as any Christian need to be in meat, drink, and sleep. He was remarkably clean in every thing: his clothes, his study, and his books were not only free from dirt, but they were kept in the most exact order. He often said, “Cleanliness is next to godliness.” This neatness in everj’ thing

MR. WESLEY’S CHARACTER. Iflf

contributes more to health than people in general imagine; and regularity prevents uneasiness of mind, which is more hurtful to the body than many are aware of. But though he would not suffer any thing slovenly about him, he had an utter aversion to any thing gaudy.

Nothing could displease him more than want of exactness in any that he had to do with. He was regular in every thing, and particularly punctual to his appointments. He was very observing wherever he went, and thought nothing beneath his notice in which he could improve either himself or others; yet no one could be more quiet in the house, or give less trouble to servants.

In the redemption of his time he excelled all I ever knew. He took the advice which he gave the preachers: “Never be unemployed a moment. Never be triflingly employed. Never while away time.” But though he was always diligent, he never seemed in a hurry. He mostly wrote standing, and to look at he was a very slow writer; yet by his close application and unremitting perseverance what volumes has he produced! He added to his industry an amazing patience of fatigue. Where almost any one else would have failed, his active, enterprising spirit enabled him unweariedly to pursue his purpose till he succeeded.

As an Englishman, Mr. Wesley was true to his king and country. As a minister, he loved the Established Church. His sentiments on these subjects are printed, and I must refer to his Works. His religious opinions you have seen in the first part of this pamphlet. In these he steadily lived and died; but he was no bigot. His sermon on a Catholic Spirit, published many years ago, and an article (in a late number of the Magazine) called, “A new Phenomenon,” show his candour and the liberality of his mind. I mention these two, because so many years passed between the times of their being published. Whoever reads his various tracts will find the most determined adherence to the principles of universal toleration, from his beginning to his death.

His modesty prevented his saying much of his own experience. In public he very seldom, hardly ever, spoke of the state of his own soul. Sometimes he indirectly mentioned a conscientious regard for sundry things, and that his conscience would not let him do the opposites. But still he did not, when speaking of doctrines, produce himself as an evidence. He knew that “the truth of a doctrine, and the rectitude of a character, had no necessary connection.” Yet he was sufficiently explicit among his friends. He told me, when with him in Yorkshire, in the year 1781, that “his experience might almost any time be found in the following lines: —

*0 Thou who earnest from above,

The pure celestial fire t’ impart,
Kindle a flame of sacred love

On the mean altar of my heart!
There let it for thy glory bum

With inextinguishable blaze,
And trembling to its source return,

In humble love and fervent praise.’”

A sold that in general could express its feelings in these verses could not but be happy. And that he thought so himself is plain to me, for he often would stop when we were writing together, and, looking up with a pleasant countenance, would say, —

“Lord, how happy is the heart,
After thee while it aspires!”

He would add some text of Scripture, or a short sentence from some favourite author, and then pursue his business. In the year 1783 I heard him say in Leeds chapel (when preaching on, “I will take the cup of salvation, and call upon the name of the Lord”) that, after all his travelling in the service of God, and all his preaching and praying, he saw nothing to depend upon but, “God be merciful to me a sinner!” The same I heard him repeat at Sheffield last summer. This to me was very satisfactory, and his latter end well agreed with such a habit of living. I could here indulge a melancholy pleasure in expatiating on his humility, his love, his communion with God, and all the graces of the Holy Spirit which he so fully possessed; but I have already exceeded the bounds I had set when I began.

Should any one object to so short an account of him being published, I answer: A short account is better than none, (and I have seen none yet, save that about his death, and what has been in the newspapers.) Besides, hundreds can buy this account who cannot buy a larger; and short as it is, it contains the great outlines of his portrait. In fine, I had not time to publish a large volume, though I thought it right, as a son, to say something of my father in the gospel- And very few of his sons have had greater opportunities of being thoroughly acquainted with him, during the last seventeen years. I have slept with him hundreds of nights: I have travelled with him thousands of miles: I lived in what he reckoned more immediately his own family, in London and Bristol, five years together: I have conversed freely with him on a variety of subjects: I knew his opinions, his disposition, and the very secrets of his heart. Had he not discovered that he was man by a few instances of human frailty, those who knew him would have been in danger of idolatry. His life showed to what a degree of greatness man may be raised; and his death shows that the glory of virtue alone is solid and eternal. The pomp and pageantry of state, wealth, and titles of dominion have contributed to gain some the name of great. These would have been useless appendages to him. He was great in himself; great in the energy and powers of his own mind; great in the superiority and sovereignty of his soul over most other men.

In this imperfect memorial I have endeavoured to .show my love to this venerable saint: now none can suspect me of flattery; but all his worth will not, cannot be known till mortality shall be swallowed up of life. The sun cannot be seen but by its own light; and when it shines, all

Other lights are as darkness, compared with its transcendent effulgence. Mr. Wesley has had his day. He shone with distinguished lustre for many years. He has been a means of dispelling the darkness of ignorance and error from the minds of thousands. He has often cheered the drooping spirits of such as were ready to perish. He has, in the hands of God, revived genuine piety over this land, and made thousands fruitful in good works. But, alas! he is eclipsed for a season! and his absence causes a darkness which is most acutely felt! What a solemn scene presents itself to our view! human nature exalted almost beyond human belief, and sunk almost below human notice! But he hath left behind him proofs of his greatness, which will last till the visible creation shall be no more! Whoever reads his Works, and contemplates his character, will easily allow that his extraordinary natural powers, improved by a liberal education, and employed to their utmost extent in the service of God, for the good of mankind, are deserving of the highest praise we dare give to a mortal. His disinterested love to the poor, his unabating zeal in setting forth the Lord Jesus Christ to perishing sinners, his deep acquaintance with divine things, and his amazing labours in the chm*ch, rendered him the delight of his friends, the glory of his family, and the wonder of the age he lived in! Allow him but the unavoidable infirmities of humanity, and he was a rare ornament to the British empire, a striking pattern to all Christian ministers, and a bright exemplar of religious excellence.

The chief point in which the death of Mr. Wesley will affect the Methodist connection is, the preachers thereby lose their “centre of union.” They considered themselves as his sons in the gospel, and to his direction they freely submitted. But they owe no such submission to any other man. It is therefore impossible that there should ever be another king in our Israel. But it does not follow that our union will be destroyed. The preachers never called Mr. Wesley, Rabbi, in the sense which our Lord forbids.

They never acknowledged any head of the Christian church, but Jesus Christ; and he is “the same yesterday, and to-day, and for ever.” Under his gracious influence the preachers are well qualified to govern themselves. Their plan is, in part, not only fixed, but published in their enrolled deed and the minutes of the conference. It is probable they wilLappoint a president and a general committee every year, to act in concert during the conference only; their office and power to end with the conference. While they are assembled, they can divide the three kingdoms into districts (a given number of circuits to form a district.) They can then choose a committee out of every district, and each committee can choose its own president for the year, who can convene the committee in case of any business that cannot be done in a single circuit. Thus it will be easy to preserve our union indissoluble, and to perpetuate the itinerant plan in the good old way. That this may be the case, and that God may give us a right spirit, that with a single eye we may aim at his glory in a)] things, is the earnest prayer of,

The church’s servant for Christ’s sake,

S. BRADBURjyf.